


THE SECOND TIME...and the six hundredth and eighty-second time

by dancermk



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, First Person Narrative, Fluff, Ian's POV, M/M, Making Love, Mickey's POV, Post Season 10, Relationship Growth, Sexual Growth, Smut, married Mickey and Ian, season one, teen Mickey and Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancermk/pseuds/dancermk
Summary: I HAVE ADDED MICKEY'S POV AS CHAPTER TWO - AS REQUESTED!! HOPE YOU ENJOY HIS PERSPECTIVE TOO!This is told in two parts from Ian's POV - their second hook up in the fridge at the Kash and Grab (season 1) and then a sexual encounter when they are married post season 10.  Basically exploring Ian's changing perspective on sex with Mickey from when he was a teenage boy to a mature married man.  Yes it's about sex, but more so about relationship and character growth.Extract:🔥❤️🔥❤️Mickey arches his back and presses his ass against my cock and I know what he wants.  I smile, because after ten years and a marriage licence he still likes to avoid asking for it.“Thought we were going to sleep?” I ask, unable to keep the teasing lilt out of my voice.“We are.  Close your fuckin’ eyes and stop talking.”
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 65
Kudos: 367





	1. IAN’S PERSPECTIVE

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my laptop for a while so I thought I would share it. I was experimenting with first person narration and liked the idea of contrasting an infatuated horny teenage Ian with married and in love Ian. I hope you like it.  
> (The number I chose for how many times they've had sex was literally plucked out of the air - it could be ridiculously low or high - who knows!??)

**The second time…**

I close the door to the walk-in fridge, wondering if this is really happening. He came back for more. I’m smiling like a fucking idiot and I know that will only piss him off, but I can’t help it. Mickey Milkovich—motherfucking badass of Southside wants my dick. My dick! It wasn’t just some messed up one-time thing in the heat of a fight. Mickey Milkovich is fucking gay!

I turn around and he’s already dropped trou, his bare ass on show. He looks over his shoulder, all angry at me.

“You want a fucking invitation? Get on me!”

Fuck no, I don’t need an invitation.

“You got lube?” I ask as I move in behind him. Should I touch his ass yet? Fuck, look at it. I want to eat it, lick it. Would he let me do that? Fuck no, he won’t even let me kiss him.

Mickey reaches into his jacket pocket and hands me a tube of lube. He planned it and packed lube. What the fuck? I smile like a dork again as I take the lube.

“I’m ready, hurry the fuck up.”

Shit! He’s prepped himself. Damn, I wish he hadn’t, I wanted to finger him first—make it last longer.

“Condom?” I ask.

“Fuck Gallagher, I ain’t got all day.”

I hesitate for a moment. I could go back into the store and grab one. Fuck it, we didn’t use one last time and I like it raw. I slick up my dick, I’m so hard just from thinking about it. I push him down—put my hand on the back of his neck so I can feel his skin. He’s hot and sweaty. I like pushing him down, having control - control over him. Not that I’d ever tell him that he’d kick my fucking ass.

I use one hand to separate his butt cheeks and there it is. His fucking hole. My whole body trembles and my dick leaks. Lining my dick up, I push in. When the head first pushes in, that’s the best part—the tightness, the heat, the pressure—it’s all so fucking good. I’m trying not to moan too loud but it’s hard cos it feels so good, so much better than Kash. I can’t take my eyes off my dick as Mickey’s ass swallows it, like my dick was made for his hole.

Mickey grunted a few times when I entered him, but now as I thrust in and out he’s mostly quiet. Wish I could see his face. 

“You like it Mickey? Your ass is so tight.”

“Shut the fuck up. Harder, you pussy.”

I don’t need to be told twice, so I start slamming into him. I try adjusting my angle a few times to find his prostate. I can’t last much longer, it’s too fucking good. I dig my fingers into his hips and start pulling him back onto my dick; the sound of our bodies slapping together makes me moan even more.

Then Mickey grunts. I heard it, he grunted.

“Fuck.”

I heard that too. He fucking likes it hard and fast. Shit, do I just cum? Is he going to finish himself or should I offer? Last time he finished himself. Oh fuck, I’m so close. I slow down, trying to stop myself from cumming and then I take a risk and reach around to find his dick. It’s not long, but it’s got some girth to it and I like the way it fits in my hand. 

Another grunt. Okay, okay, I’m jerking Mickey Milkovich while fucking him in the ass. This is really happening. 

“You gonna cum, Mick. Come on.” I’m pushing my luck and I know it. 

More grunts, just little ones, then Mickey is cumming into my hand. I can feel it around my dick, his orgasm pulsing in his ass. I have his warm cum on my hand. It’s fucking too much and I shoot my load deep in his ass. I’m grunting too, I can’t stop myself, I feel like I’m high. I don’t want it to be over. I keep thrusting slow and shallow through the aftershocks. Damn, he’s a good fuck. He takes my huge dick like a pro. Kash is always telling me to go slow and give him time to adjust. ‘Not so hard,’ he complains.

“You done Gallagher?”

“Yeah, that was fucking hot.”

I pull out slowly and some of my cum drips out of his hole. I want to put my finger in him and feel my cum inside. I’ll be hard again in ten minutes if I keep thinking about that. Before he turns around I quickly lick his cum off my hand. Maybe I’m a cum slut? I wonder if he’ll let me blow him next time? He’d like that, I’m sure of it. He can shoot his load in my mouth anytime.

I tuck myself back in and zip up. Mickey has just pulled his boxers and jeans back up with cum dripping out of his ass. Jesus, I would have gotten him something to clean himself up if he wanted. There’s cum on the floor, so I better remember to clean that up before Kash gets back.

Mickey is heading out of the freezer, so I just follow him. He’s not saying anything. I follow him to the front door, then push in front so I can open the door for him. 

We step outside and I turn to him, “So, guess that was like a booty call, huh?”

“Whatever. See ya.”

I’m smiling like a fucking dork again. He doesn’t even look at me as he walks off. I don’t even care. Best fuck! Motherfucking badass Mickey Milkovich wants my dick. My dick! All the way home my cum will be leaking out of his hole. And he will be sore from me pounding him hard. He’ll be thinking of me. He’ll be back. He fucking loves it.

**The Six hundredth and Eighty-second time…**

Mickey arches his back and presses his ass against my cock and I know what he wants. I smile because after ten years and a marriage licence he still likes to avoid asking for it.

“Thought we were going to sleep?” I ask, unable to keep the teasing lilt out of my voice.

“We are. Close your fuckin’ eyes and stop talking.”

Not thirty seconds later Mickey pushes back again, twice this time. I don’t react, biting my lip to stop from laughing. Unfortunately my dick _is_ reacting and as always Mickey will get what he wants. Luckily it’s exactly what I want too, but I like to see how far I can push my husband to articulate his needs. I get off on hearing him say it, it drives me fucking wild.

Our hands are threaded together - we have been sleeping like this since we were teenagers. I love being the big spoon, love Mickey being vulnerable in my arms. Mickey’s hand is on top and he slowly drags our hands down until my hand is resting over his half hard cock. This is followed by more slow thrusting; Mickey pushing back onto my cock, then forward into my hand. We are both getting harder with each thrust.

“Can I help you with something?” I tease.

I know Mickey is smiling, I can feel it.

“I don’t know, can you?”

“Tell me want you want,” I whisper into his ear.

Mickey half moans and chuckles and I know I’ve got him.

“You know what I want.”

“Want you to tell me.” My cock is rock hard, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control not to pull Mickey’s boxers down so I can get it between those fleshy cheeks. He turns me on as much as he did when I was fifteen, but it’s different now. The sex is still fucking fantastic, better than fantastic, but it’s love now too. Love with history and tragedy and pain and so much fucking joy too. We’re bound to each other and I fucking love it. I love being married and I can’t believe I was so scared to do it. 

“What does my husband want?”

“Jesus Ian, just fuck me already.”

“Is that what you want? I can fuck you hard and fast, or maybe you’re looking for something else?”

“You’re such a fucking asshole. Don’t make me say it.”

I kiss up his neck and squeeze his cock. “I want that too,” I tell him. And I do. Mostly we still fuck hard, but not always. Things changed in prison, of all places. We can both be soft bitches behind closed doors.

Mickey turns over and kisses him. It’s slow moving lips and delicate tongues and moans that are also sighs that signify home. 

“Make love to me, you fuckin’ prick,” Mickey says. He’s still trying to be tough, but it won’t last much longer. 

I kiss down his neck and chest, lavishing his nipples, sucking and licking his stomach and hips. I remove his boxers and then decide to get rid of mine at the same time. Sitting between my husband’s legs, I let my eyes wander up and down his body, before surging back up to lay on top of him and suck on that perfect bottom lip. 

“I love you,” I say, staring into those blue eyes that can’t hide anything from me.

“I love you too.”

Mickey’s arms wrap around me and pull us closer together as we kiss again. We wasted too many years not kissing and now we’re making up for it. I reach over and grab the lube, rolling us onto our sides so we are facing each other. I finger him open as we make out, and we rut against each other, but it's slow and sensual. We take our time and our lips start to swell. I’m three fingers in and rubbing against his prostate when Mickey starts to shake. He’s beautiful like this. Vulnerable and open. 

I pull my fingers out and add lube to my cock. Mickey spreads his legs open wide for me. I tell him to lift his hips and I slide a pillow under before positioning between his legs. We watch each other when I push in. Mickey bites his bottom lip and moans in pleasure, then reaches for me and I settle on my elbows over him, chest to chest.

Starting slow, I roll in and out of him, his body rocking gently with the motion. We breathe deeply as the pleasure builds and builds. Mickey lifts his legs ups and wraps them around me and runs his hands through my hair. I increase the speed and start to snap my hips as we lick and moan into each other’s mouths.

“You look so beautiful, Mick.”

I want to watch him when he cums. He’s so close now, and I know the exact angle to get him there without even touching his cock. 

“Oh Ian, fuck it feels so good,” Mickey moans, pressing his head back into the pillow and closing his eyes.

“Look at me,” I say in barely a whisper.

Mickey opens his eyes and his body stills, mouth opening as he cums. ‘Ian, Ian,’ he moans as his orgasm floods through him. I let myself go too, wanting to be right there with him. I suck on his bottom lip as I release inside him. I can feel him squeezing around my cock, wanting to make it perfect for me. I love his warm cum on my stomach and how his hands grip hard at my ass, holding me deep inside him. 

We clean each other up and then climb back under the covers, resuming the same position we started in. Mickey turns his head for one more kiss.

I snuggle in, my nose buried in the crook of his neck. I slip my thigh between his and thread our fingers together, but this time my hand is on top. 

“I love making love to you,” I tell him.

Mickey kisses the back of my hand. “Me too.”


	2. Mickey's perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is Mickey's POV about the same two sexual encounters!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purpose of this fic I have made the assumption that Mickey's previous sexual encounters with boys (prior to Ian) were as a top only. For example, in juvie he would top as an act of power. Hence his view / denial of his sexuality - it's a sex act rather than an orientation or mental state.   
> So my take on his FIRST time with Ian was that a number of factors combined, resulting in him trying something he probably hadn't had the courage to do so before. These factors being - a) he was taken unaware having just woken up - his guard was down. b) the fight led to heightened emotions and a rush of adrenaline. c)this in turn produced a sexual response - Ian under him, his cock in Ian's face, probably feeling Ian's erection and Ian seeing his erection. It then became a spontaneous, risky, exciting, heat of the moment act. Ian, already sexually confident, and not considering bottoming for a second, probably bent Mickey over and went for it! Fireworks!! The rest they say is history!  
> Wow that was a lot of thoughts - apologies - maybe I should write about their first encounter so I can work through that a bit more! LOL Just my opinion - many other valid ones!
> 
> I hope you enjoy Mickey's POV!!

**The Second Time….**

Gallagher led me into the fridge, and I drop my jeans and boxers as he shuts the door. I need to keep this simple, no faggot bullshit. The first time took me by surprise. Who would have thought this skinny freckly kid would be packing and know how to use it? Getting fucked was nothing like doing the fucking. 

Gallagher is taking too long, and my ass is hanging out in the cold, so I look over my shoulder and growl at him, “You want a fucking invitation? Get on me!”

“You got lube?” he asks as he moves behind me. 

I reach into my jacket pocket and hand over the lube I bought. The fucking dork is smiling at me like all his Christmases have come at once. “I’m ready, hurry the fuck up,” I bark at him. I don’t wanna get caught. This was a stupid fucking idea.

“Condom?” Gallagher asks. 

Fuck, shit! I left them at home. Who gives a fuck anyway? We already did it bareback. I can’t imagine this boy scout has been dipping his dick in too many asses, although his cock is fucking spectacular. “Fuck Gallagher, I ain’t got all day,” I say, getting desperate to get this show on the road. I didn’t spend 15 minutes fingering myself in the bathroom for nothing.

Gallagher places a hand on the back of my neck and pushes me down. Part of me wants to rip his fucking balls off and part of me likes the feeling of his fingers pressing into my skin. 

He separates my ass cheeks and blood rushes to my dick. Then nothing happens. Is he just gawking at my hole? Has he forgotten what to do with his fucking dick? I’m on the verge of telling him to stick it in when…fuuuuck. It feels so good even though it stings. I grunt a few times - I can’t hold it in. It’s better than the first time, cos I’m ready for it; the feel of Gallagher’s cock stretching me and rubbing against all those nerves. Who would have thought getting fucked would feel so good?

Gallagher starts to thrust in and out slowly, but I want it harder. I’m not some fucking bitch - I want a good pounding. 

“You like it, Mickey?” Gallagher asks, and I can tell he’s leaning over, wanting to press his chest to my back. “Your ass is so tight.” Fuck, that makes my dick throb. That makes me feel something I don’t want to admit. Shit shit shit!

“Shut the fuck up,” I say, struggling to keep the aggression in my voice. “Harder, you pussy.”

The kid doesn’t need to be told twice, and he starts slamming into me. I bite down hard on my bottom lip, trying to stifle the moans. And fuck do I want to moan, it feels so fucking good. Why the fuck would anyone want to top when bottoming feels like this? Gallagher’s adjusted his angle and he’s hitting that spot. I can feel my orgasm starting to build, but I don’t want it to end yet.

Gallagher digs his fingers into my hips and starts pulling me back onto his cock. My vision is blurring, and the sweat is pouring off me. Wish I had my fucking clothes off. The feel of his fingers pressing into me and the sound of our bodies slapping together makes me want to moan and I do, I can’t stop it. 

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, hoping he didn’t hear me. He’s a cocky little shit for a fifteen-year-old, but I guess I would be too if I had a nine-inch dick. I’m so fucking close and I want to touch myself. Fuck that, I want Gallagher to touch me, want him to wrap that big fucking freckly hand around my cock and stroke it.

Gallagher slows his thrusts and I ease back from cumming. He’s rolling his hips into me, the head of his dick teasing my prostate. When I fuck a girl, hell, even when I fuck a guy it never feels like this. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? Fuck, I want it. I want this dorky runt to dick me down every day.

When he grasps my dick, I moan as he rubs his thumb over the head and spreads the pre-cum down my shaft. The pleasure in my ass and my dick combined is almost too fucking much. Then Gallagher speeds back up, snapping his hips in hard, and I’m right there on the edge again. I grunt cos I just gotta cum. I gotta.

“You gonna cum, Mick? Come on,” Gallagher says, voice laced with pride. The fucker definitely knows the effect he’s having, and it pisses me off as much as I love it. 

Fuck no that’s not true, I’m just lying out my ass - I love it. I cum hard into his hand. It’s the best fucking orgasm I’ve ever had; the pulses are deep and long, and I can feel my ass squeezing around his dick. 

Gallagher joins me, grunting loud as he dumps his load deep inside me. I can feel it - his cum - and it does something to me. Taking it. It turns me the fuck on, and there’s shame mixed in with the pleasure. I shake and not just because of the orgasm but because of what this means. This isn’t the same as fucking a guy in juvie, just so no one messes with me. This is fucking faggot shit. Taking it up the ass like a bitch. Moaning like a bitch. Wanting his cock down my throat; wanting to taste it and have him hold me down.

“You done Gallagher?” I say with as much disgust as I can manage. And it’s easy because it’s how I feel about myself.

“Yeah, that was fucking hot,” Gallagher replies, happy as shit, riding his orgasm high.

He pulls out of me and I can feel some of his cum dripping out of my hole. I hate myself cos I like how it feels. I feel sexy and dirty and thoroughly fucked in a good way. Part of me wants to reach around and feel it; finger myself, then rub it over my rim. I push the thoughts aside and pull up my boxers and jeans. 

Gallagher is still zipping up as I head out of the fridge, but he follows me, catching up at the front door and pushing past to open it.

As I step outside, I fix my scarf. I haven’t said jack shit to him, and I don’t trust myself around this kid. He’s sweet as fuck with his puppy dog eyes and dorky smile, and I hate myself for even thinking it.

“So, guess that was like a booty call, huh?” Gallagher says. This fucking kid. Next he’ll be asking me to prom.

“Whatever. See ya,” I say, making sure not to look back at him. I know he’s smiling; I just fucking know it. 

As I head home, I can feel more of his cum seeping out. My boxers are wet with lube and jizz, and I find myself smirking. If I keep it simple, treat him like shit, I can probably get away with it. How will Terry find out if I just fuck him in that fridge or down an alley? No kissing or any of that shit. Just fucking. I’m not a faggot if it’s just fucking. 

I light up a smoke as I replay it over in my mind. My dick is already getting hard again just thinking about it. Gonna have to rub one out when I get home. Gallagher’s cock is fucking hot. I can still feel it, and my ass aches and I like it. The way he pushed me down with his hand on the back of my neck and the way he grabbed onto my hips. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m fucked!

**The Six hundredth and Eighty-second time…**

I can feel Ian’s soft cock laying against my ass, resting along my crack through my thin boxers. I probably wouldn’t be able to feel a normal dude’s limp dick against my ass, but Ian’s is long and thick even when he’s soft and, well, I can’t _not_ notice. Even more, I like it when it’s soft; the way it hangs and moves, the light sprinkling of freckles.

I arch my butt back, feeling it slip further between my cheeks and I imagine it swelling up, growing hard, and leaking as it seeks out my ass. As Ian seeks out me.

“Thought we were going to sleep?” Ian asks, amusement obvious in his voice.

“We are. Close your fuckin’ eyes and stop talking,” I say, because the fucker knows exactly what I want and _still_ wants me to ask for it. I stay still and pretend I’m going to sleep. Fuck it, I should go to sleep and leave him hanging. Yeah, that won’t happen.

I hold out for all of thirty seconds, maybe a minute, and I push back again; once, twice. Ian’s cock is already reacting, and a warmth spreads over my body. I love being married, even more than I thought I would. 

Our fingers are threaded together with my hand on top, so it’s easy for me to drag Ian’s hand down over my half-hard cock. I hold in a sigh of contentment, hoping Ian will give in and take the lead.

I wonder if it’s the last wall I need to break down. I have no problem taking what I want, initiating what I want, when we fuck. But right now, I want something else, something soft, and I still hate asking for it. And it makes no fucking sense because Ian knows me better than I know myself.

I start pushing back onto his cock and forward into his hand. It’s slow and sensual and hot as fuck. I’m almost fully hard and so is Ian by the time he asks, “Can I help you with something?” He’s a fucking tease and I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face.

“I don’t know, can you?” I say, throwing the question back at him. I enjoy flirting with my husband. And I enjoy saying ‘my husband.’ It feels like family.

“Tell me want you want,” Ian whispers, his lips grazing my ear.

He’s seducing me and I love it. I moan and then chuckle because this is a game we love to play. “You know what I want,” I say, keeping my voice low and soft as I continue to thrust forward and backwards.

“Want you to _tell_ me.”

And there it is. Ian’s deep-rooted need to hear it. I know it comes from those early years of me not telling him how I felt, or how much I wanted him, or how much I loved him. 

Ian tries again, “What does _my husband_ want?” Yeah, he fucking knows me, knows which buttons to push.

“Jesus Ian, just fuck me already,” I whine, lust mixing with frustration. I just want him to pull my boxers down so I can feel him. Feel his skin, his cock against my ass, his hand on my now leaking dick.

“Is that what you want? I can fuck you hard and fast, or maybe you’re looking for something else?” Ian has lifted himself up onto one elbow, so he’s hovering over me, his breath fanning hot across my face.

“You’re such a fucking asshole. Don’t make me say it.” I sound pissed off, but Ian knows I’m not. 

He decorates my neck with open mouthed wet kisses and nibbles. “I want that too,” he tells me, then squeezes and palms at my cock. I close my eyes and lift my chin because I want more, so much more. I can’t take it any longer, so I turn around, cup his jaw the connect our lips. I want it slow and deep and that’s what I get as our tongues swirl and slide gently against each other. 

When Ian moans loudly into my mouth, and my body feels like it will ignite into flames, I give in. “Make love to me, you fuckin’ prick.” I know my eyes must be as black with need as Ian’s are.

He wastes no time kissing down my neck and chest, biting gently at my nipples, then sucking and licking at my stomach and hips. Ian pulls my boxers down like he has all the time in the world, and I almost gasp when my cock finally springs free.

Once he’s rid himself of his own boxers, he sits between my legs, and his eyes wander up and down my body. My heart thuds in my chest when he looks at me this way. The same way he did when we were young—like I’m the fucking sun, stars and moon. 

He surges back up to lie on top of me, sucking on my bottom lip like he always does. We fit together like puzzle pieces and it feels like home.

“I love you,” Ian says, looking down at me, eyes full of emotion.

“I love you too,” I tell him, then wrap my arms around him as we kiss again.

Ian fingers me open slowly and our lips never separate. We rub and rock against each other, our pre-cum mixing and turning me into a quivering mess. Neither of us could have ever lasted this long when we were young, but maturity and self-control has many benefits. Ian has three fingers inside me now, and my lips are swollen from all the kissing. As soon as my legs start to shake, he pulls out and lubes up his cock.

I spread my legs; I love being wide open for him, welcoming him inside. I stroke my cock teasingly, lifting my pelvis so he can slide the pillow under my hips which means only one thing—it’s chest to chest, slow and deep, and everything I want.

We watch each other as he enters me, and I can’t stop myself from biting on my bottom lip; that initial push flooding my body with pleasure. Bodies pressed together, Ian rolls his hips - that thick, long cock slowly sliding in and out over and over again and sending me crazy. I wrap my legs around him because I want him deeper, always deeper. 

I can tell Ian is getting close, that he wants to, needs to cum, so I dig my heels in and he increases his speed. He thrusts hard, the friction of our bodies rubbing perfectly against my cock. He knows the exact angle to get me to cum untouched and I lick desperately into his mouth as he rubs at my sweet spot.

“You look so beautiful, Mick,” he says, lifting up to look at me.

“Oh Ian, fuck it feels so good,” I moan as I press my head back into the pillow and close my eyes, passing the point of no return.

“Look at me,” Ian says.

I open my eyes and I see love pouring out of him as he thrusts into me. Then I’m cumming and moaning, ‘Ian, Ian,’ over and over again. I squeeze hard around Ian’s cock and grab at his ass, holding him deep inside me as he cums too. And we suck on each other’s lips, desperate to stay joined that bit longer.

Afterwards, we clean each other up and then climb back under the covers, resuming the same position we started in. I want one more kiss, so I turn my head and take it.

Ian nuzzles in at my neck and slips a leg between my thighs. When he threads our fingers together, he says, “I love making love to you.” 

Fuck, I love it too. I kiss the back of Ian’s hand then pull it into my chest. “Me too,” I say because I’m not afraid of who I am, or how I feel about him, or of who we are together, anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear your thoughts - drop me a comment!  
> Please kudos if you enjoyed it!!  
> Please user subscribe if you are interested in my fics - will have some new stuff happening next week!
> 
> Probably going to finish Dance Partners before the weekend. Look out for it - I'm on my final edit.
> 
> Take care!!  
> Rachael x  
> Twitter @dancelovermk


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